


This is not a Hamilton Story

by YunaBlaze



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Crush at First Sight, M/M, Meet-Cute, Party, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-15
Updated: 2019-02-15
Packaged: 2019-10-24 07:00:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,893
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17699768
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YunaBlaze/pseuds/YunaBlaze
Summary: This is the unofficial report from Simon, Josh and North on Markus from the year 2040. All content within is not to be taken seriously.(And this is not a reference material to start something that is similar to the Hamilton Musical. NO MATTER HOW SIMILAR IT IS!)This is nothing more than Markus' first meeting with a certain... unique individual.





	This is not a Hamilton Story

**Author's Note:**

  * For [spookykingdomstarlight](https://archiveofourown.org/users/spookykingdomstarlight/gifts).



Markus was sure his motor servos were broken with how much he was forcing himself to smile in this banquet. Mingling with the human political figures and handling other android faction leaders were just exhausting, even with North, Simon and Josh helping to lighten his load. They had come a long way to obtain their rights and had fought almost every day to obtain equality, now they had to work to forge better bonds with their human allies and maintain this still fragile peace between androids and humans.

Nonetheless, he was pretty sure this simple and almost day-to-day event was burning up his Thirium reserve faster than if he was left bleeding to death.

A glass of Thirium soon appeared in his field of vision, following the hand that held it, he found a smiling Simon holding said glass. ‘You look like you are in need of drink.’ 

Markus smiled back wryly as he thanked his friend and took the glass. The PL600 pat his shoulder lightly as he said, ‘Go take a rest, I am sure I can look after both North and Josh while handling the rest of the guests.’

Ah yes... Despite the relative peace, North was still hotheaded with her point of view of humans being nothing but lying vile creatures, which often led her to clash with the pacifist Josh. In fact, her desire to keep pushing for their rights in a more forceful manner had put a strain on their relationship, which had later come to breaking point that the RK200 felt that they could not continue as lovers and he broke up with her. He always believed that relationship could be nurtured, but without the desire to listen, to compromise and to understand from both sides, then it was impossible for either lovers to continue.

Markus sighed as he carefully slipped away from the banquet hall, seeking sanctuary and peace in some remote corners in the large building. As he walked aimlessly down the corridors, his eyes started to scan the intricate designs of the marbles and the artistic design of the old manor. At least, he had something he could enjoy studying here, office buildings were often filled with minimal amount of artwork for him to distract himself with. 

His sensor detected a faint cool wind current, Markus smiled a bit. _Some fresh would do me some good. Ha, ha. Now I understand what Carl felt when he had to attend all those art gallery of his..._

The tan skinned android didn’t even pay further attention to his surrounding and just stepped through the double doors that led to an opened balcony. Only to discover it was already occupied by someone else. Heterochromia eyes blinked in surprise as bright blue eyes widened in shock. It was obvious enough that neither Markus nor this stranger thought anyone else would be coming to this balcony. 

Once the shock passed, the android studied the... colourful individual in front of him. Truthfully, this stranger was probably the most colourful individual within the manor, seeing everyone was wearing suits and dresses with a monochrome theme. The man standing before him definitely looked like the oddball black sheep if he was mingling amongst the guests with his colourful shirt would be far too eye-catching even when partly covered by a dark navy coat. The human appeared to be in his early fifties, his grey hair tied into a small ponytail, a slightly trimmed beard and blue eyes that reminded Markus painfully of those of Carl Manfred’s, his dad’s. Markus inwardly grimaced slightly at the last comparison, seeing this scruffy-looking man with a disheveled dress code couldn’t really hold a candle to the proper deceased painter who always had something stylish with his clothes.

‘Uh... sorry for stealing the booze?’ the stranger uttered uncertainly, drawing the android’s attention to the bottle of wine he had in his hand and the stained glass that was resting on the balustrade.

Markus choked back a laugh at the words, recalling fondly once more of Carl who had always found reasons or occasions to indulge one of his bad vices, whether Markus let him or not. The android leader shook his head as he replied, ‘No, no, please enjoy. I am not here to look for who is stealing drinks off the banquet table. I thought everyone would remain in the ballroom.’

‘Yeah, well, not everyone can act like a prick with something stuck in their ass,’ the stranger pointed in a rather vulgar manner as he went to pour himself a glass full of red wine. Probably what he was doing before Markus stumbled upon him. ‘Besides, that room is worse than being locked up in a sauna on high heat.’

Not really the words Markus himself would use, but the vexed feeling behind said words was similar enough. It was... kind of refreshing to hear someone speaking their mind freely in front of him, but not to the point of trying to enforce their point of view on him. The android simply settle to nod in agreement before he gestured to the open space of the balcony and asked, ‘Mind if I stay for a bit?’

The human extended his hand to the space next to him with a light shrug. ‘Help yourself. After all, you rented this place for the party.’ 

‘Technically, it’s more the mayor who has rented it, but thank you,’ Markus corrected as he set his glass on the balustrade as well, leaning his arms over the stone railing and studying the beautiful garden before them, filled with lit lanterns, intricate statues and grand fountains. He breathed in heavily, the intake of autumn’s cold air certainly helped cooling his biocomponents faster. He didn’t realize how hot they actually were until felt the contrasting difference in the temperature.

Both of them remained quiet, just sipping their own drink from time to time, but otherwise, they enjoyed the peace and quiet.

‘So...’ the human suddenly started, breaking the peaceful silence between them. ‘Why is the supposed star of the party is hiding out here with a nobody like me?’

Markus regarded the man with a curious tilt in his head as he replied with a question of his own, ‘Then why are you hiding here and drinking in your lonesome?’ 

The man chuckled in amusement as he answered, ‘Hiding from my son who has spent more time trying to fix my look while working out the security details of this place.’

 _Ah. He must be part of the security team that is supposed to blend in amongst the guests to keep an eye on things._ Markus thought before he curiously repeated, ‘Your son?’

‘Well, not officially, but short of having the adoption papers, I pretty much see him as my son,’ the old stranger replied with a fond smile, which had a small hint of annoyance at the end of the corner. ‘Assuming he stops acting like a nanny around me. I swear, he can be a handful at times, making dieting meals, keeping an eye on how much I drink, watching my back during work and now...’ He gestures at his overall appearance. ‘Preening me for special occasions.’

Markus knew it was rude to laugh at someone’s supposed misfortune, but he couldn’t stop the laugh bubbling out of his artificial lungs. The man’s complaints sounded like something Carl would have said to tease him, less exasperation and more fondness. This man... was very similar to his surrogate father, though with a rougher exterior and language than the refine artist had. He tried his best to keep his laughter in control before he apologized, ‘I’m sorry, but your complaint sounds like something my dad would have say.’ 

The stranger looked surprise, though that was normal, seeing information concerning his overall life before he deviated was more or less still a mystery to many. ‘Your dad?’

Markus’ laugh died with those two simple words and his smile turned into a sad and nostalgic one. The artist had always treated him as if he was his own son, but he had only been able to call him dad on the night he died. He was not even sure if Carl had managed to hear his last words to him. He breathed out slowly before he answered, ‘Yeah. My dad... He’s... no longer around...’

The man’s blue eyes darkened slightly as he looked away and clumsily apologized, ‘I... I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to pry.’

Markus stayed quiet and closed his eyes, forcing himself to push away the memory of that horrible night and ignoring the rising stress level indicator that was flashing in a corner of his vision. It had been almost two years since that day and he still couldn’t truly forgive himself. Maybe if he had fought back instead of taking the abuse or just forced Leo out of the house, Carl might still be alive. He knew that he shouldn’t lingered so much on these thoughts, like the old artist had told him time and again back when he was still shackled by his programming, he had to learn to take care of himself when Carl was no longer around. It was just hard...

‘You know... I used to have a son of my own blood. He died at the age of six,’ the stranger suddenly said. Blue-and-green eyes widened in shock as their owner turned to look at the old man. The stone hard expression on his face made him looked older and sadder. ‘It’s never easy to bury someone you really loved and cared. Nor is it meant to be easy, but... I think it’s better when the son buries the father than the other way around. When I buried Cole that day, it was like I buried half of myself along with him and life turned meaningless to me. It felt easier to rage against the world and just drown myself in depression, destroying myself piece by piece and day by day.’

Markus felt a sense of unease at the man’s words as he spoke of his loss with a sadness that reminded him of his own. Would Carl fall into that downward spiral of depression the man was describing? Yes, certainly. The android did not want to even imagine what the handicapped artist would do if Markus had actually died that night and he survived instead. He might get another android caretaker, but he would find differences, just as Markus did when he was reawakened. Differences that were once small and insignificant to many just shattered everything, making the death of their loved one far more hollowing than ever. Carl might... He might have just lived out the remaining days of his life like an empty husk. No more bright and colourful paintings in the studio, no more contemplating philosophical subjects in the library, no more sudden desire to play on the piano. Nothing... Just the silence that accompanied the dead.

‘Still, as a dad myself, I think your dad would have been proud of you...’

These words snapped Markus out of his dark thoughts as he refocused on the stranger once more who gave him a tired smile before he continued, ‘Any parent would be proud of what their child has accomplished, whether it’s big or small.’

The android blinked in surprise before he contemplated on those words. His processor was filled with images of Carl giving him a proud smile. A soft smile graced his lips at the thought of that proud smile the artist had often given him when he had accomplished something that was outside of his programming. He thanked the stranger softly, ‘Thank you and... I think Cole... he would be happy as well, seeing you doing better and that there is someone looking after you.’

After all, he would be happy as well if Carl was living happily, even if it was another android or human taking care of him. 

The old man scoffed lightly as if to dismiss his comforting words, though he had a small smile on his lips as well as he responded with a shake of his head, ‘It doesn’t matter, the past is in the past. We should just look towards the future. It certainly seems a little brighter these days.’

Yes, that, Markus agreed. While the human and android relationship still had a long way to go before there might actually be some form of permanent peace between both, but for now, things were not as bleak as when he had initiated the revolution.

With this dark topic on loss and death dissipated, both human and android soon settled into lighter conversations, learning a bit about each other. The stranger obviously had no interest in political matters and pretty much avoided it like a plague, so Markus didn’t push it to get some bit of insight on what humans were currently thinking of the androids. The old man became quite enthusiastic when Markus brought up the topic of music, his choices of music was quite contradicting in the android’s amused opinion, seeing the human loved both the loud heavy metal genre and the soft jazz genre, but if he had to pick a word for his type of music, it would be lively, soulful.

‘Maybe you should try to put up a concert. Pretty sure lots of people would enjoy seeing your pretty face in something that is not a political ad,’ the stranger joked when Markus made mentions of his love in music and his talent in piano.

‘Pretty?’ Markus repeated the word in surprise, feeling his Thirium pump stuttering slightly at the indirect compliment and the rising temperature within his core. Ah... What was this familiar feeling?

Before the old man could tease him further, a ringtone sounded, drawing a loud groan from the human as he checked his phone with a displeased frown. He sighed as he pocketed his device, giving Markus an apologetic smile. ‘Sorry, duty calls. I’ll see you another time then, Markus.’

The android could only nod and barely got time to bid him farewell before the man ran off, though he could still hear his distant cursing and complaining. Markus chuckled at the man’s antics that reminded him of Carl before he realized one major one thing... HE NEVER EVEN GOT THE MAN’S NAME!

With that thought, Markus returned to the party with a stoic face that was blander than when he was still chained by his programming, though he still managed to be courteous towards the guests, just maybe a degree on the colder side. Simon and Josh were a bit worried by his behaviour, but thankfully, they didn’t try to pry some answers out of him. North had went for a sterner approach with him, telling him to stay focus on the task and not slip up for the humans to ridicule him. The rest of the night was nevertheless exhausting and he kept seeing the odds and ends of the stranger throughout the party: the tail-end of a familiar coat, a flash of colours of amongst the crowd and a small hint of tied up silver grey hair. If he was actually human, he might consider the possibility that he might have hallucinated the whole meeting. Of course, reality was simpler than that theory, someone was just very elusive.

Sad that said elusiveness had never given him his name and he would probably never get it after tonight. After all, they were two complete strangers who simply met by chance and managed to have some decent talks to pass time. It was not like the man was obligated to tell him his name and leave him his contact information.

With a heavy sigh, Markus resigned himself to never be able to see the old man again. 

At least, that was what he thought until he received a peculiar message that Connor delivered to him personally. A handwritten letter. At this time and age? That was a surprise by itself. When asked who it was from, the former Deviant Hunter simply gave him an amused smile and left without another word. Curiosity piqued, Markus read the letter, with his eyes widening in surprise with each word.

 

_Dear Markus,_

_I don’t think you’ll remember me or even want to talk to me again after that night, but my son, Connor, has mentioned how you seem to be a little down these days and I thought maybe I can lend you an ear like that night. I know you have friends who could do that, but this is just a silly offer from an old man who has actually enjoyed the small talks we had._

_And for the record, the reason why I am writing you a letter instead of an e-mail is because I’m an old fart who prefers doing something the outdated way. So deal with it if you don’t like._

_Sincerely,_

_The old man with a bottle of wine._

_H. A._

 

If people noticed the major shift in Markus’ mood, from silent angst to full bloom happiness, for the rest of the day, they didn’t comment on it. Some of his friends had wondered what letter could make their android leader so happy, while one of them commented on the similarity between Markus and a certain character in the Hamilton musical they had been watching.


End file.
